A long pause ensued. Hamilton’s eyes were riveted on his book, which he had again taken up; but he never turned over the leaf, nor did he move when he became conscious that Hildegarde was standing beside him.
“That was the fulfilment of the promise made at the ball on Saturday,” she at length said, in a very low voice. “I knew that his mind was in a state of unusual irritation, and his claiming a dance which I had not promised him proved his wish to quarrel with you. My fears alone made me consent.”
Hamilton turned round. A light seemed suddenly to break upon him; and Hildegarde’s motives for many inexplicable actions became at once apparent. His first impulse was to tell her so, and to assure her of his increased admiration and affection; but he recollected, just at the right moment, that all such explanations from him were a waste of words and time; that he had told her so more than once himself. So, after a short but violent internal struggle, he said, with forced serenity, “My reliance on you will henceforth be unbounded.”
She seemed perfectly satisfied with this answer. Notwithstanding its laconicism, she fully understood the extent of confidence which would in future be placed in her, and she left the room with a light heart.
CHAPTER XXX.
THE MASQUERADE.
Four muffled figures quitted the Rosenbergs’ apartments about six o’clock in the evening, and not long after, a light figure bounded up the stairs, and knocked with closed hand on the door. Walburg cautiously looked through the grated aperture; but on recognising Count Raimund, she immediately opened it.
“Where are your ladies gone? I saw them leaving the house a few minutes ago.”
“They are gone to spend the evening with Madame Berger, I believe.”
“Did you hear them say anything about going to the masquerade?”